Forest Night Flight
by CaffieneKitty
Summary: One day they would both look back at this and laugh. So hard. (Gen, Crack, written for SPN Bigpretzel's Halloween Reverse Microbang)


**Rating/Content:** Gen, PG-13, CRACK, curses, mental alteration. Set somewhere in season 2 maybe?**  
>Disclaimer<strong>: I do not own and did not originate this world and its inherent characters.  
><strong>Notes:<strong> Written for dizzojay's spn_bigpretzel Halloween Reverse Micro-bang art "Haunted Forest", which can be seen on the AO3 and Livejournal postings of this story. Originally posted to LJ and AO3 on Nov 2, 2014.

**Summary: One day they would both look back at this and laugh. ****_So_**** hard.**

-.-

**Forest Night Flight**  
><em>by Caffienekitty<em>  
>-.-<p>

One day they would both look back at this and laugh. _So_ hard. Hyperaware of the feeling of tiny insect feet tugging on the hair at the back of his head, Sam laboriously carried a very alert Dean toward where the Impala was parked on the forest access road.

Soon after the curse-slinging demon had literally flamed out, Sam had given up trying to ride herd on his whammied older brother's erratic mobility issues and taken the more expedient route of physically packing him out of the indeterminately weird forest.

A fireman's carry would have been far more effective for Dean's solid form, but something about the position made Dean's altered consciousness panic, and he flailed around like an electrocuted octopus. Knocking Dean out would have solved that problem, but in Dean's current state Sam didn't know what effect involuntary unconsciousness might have on the curse. The last thing he wanted was to risk this becoming permanent.

"SPIDER!" Dean twisted around, staring intently into a tree as they passed underneath it. "SPIDER!"

Sam winced at the volume of his brother's voice in his ear. "Okay. Got it. Thanks for the warning."

The only saving grace was that Sam could see his way well enough to not need to try to juggle a flashlight as well as his far-from-immobile older brother. It was only just past dusk and clear, with a nearly full moon rising between the trees.

"EYES!" Dean twitched in Sam's arms. "EYES IN THE DARK!"

Keeping his grip despite Dean's squirming, Sam's brow wrinkled in bemusement. "...Was that a 'Star Trek: The Next Generation' quote?"

The tiny insect feet clinging to his hair disappeared for a terrifying split second but then gripped his earlobe, tiny wings floofing in his ear.

Sam smirked in relief. "I'm just saying, if your brain kicks out Star Trek quotes under these circumstances, you're a way bigger Trekkie than I tho-"

"BATS!" Dean shouted, then made a noise somewhere between a cartoon bat flying and Hannibal Lecter contemplating what went best with a nice chianti.

Sam sighed, shifting his grip on his brother. "Yeah, probably lots of bats."

Dean's head swiveled to look directly into Sam's face. "BATS!?"

_Holy crap, two-way communication?_ Sam stopped walking to meet Dean's unnaturally wide-eyed gaze and spoke slowly and simply. "Yes. Bats. Many many bats."

"BATS!" With a violent spasm that knocked Sam on his ass, Dean dropped to the forest floor, already scrambling upright to run.

Tiny bug feet pinched Sam's earlobe. "Crap! Stop!" He grabbed at Dean's flailing arm but it wasn't where he expected it to be. Dean's unpredictable motions quickly carried him haphazardly across the clearing before Sam got to his feet.

_Here we go again,_ Sam thought as he started to chase after Dean, but was suddenly facially accosted by a set of tiny adamant wings.

"Dude!" Sam forcibly restrained himself from swatting the moth fluttering into his face. "Not helping, Dean! I'm trying to get your-" Sam gestured at his brother's capering form zig-zagging around the clearing shouting about bats, "-stupid bug-brained body under control before he decides to take a flier off into a gully and discover he doesn't have any wings right now!"

The quarter-sized moth flapped in front of his eyes, testing Sam's swatting reflex restraint again, then down to flap around the flashlight sticking out of Sam's jeans pocket.

Sam watched with dismay as the little moth danced around the unlit flashlight. _Is Dean's humanity is starting to erode? A human consciousness inside a moth can't have much room... If I lose him- _"Hey. You- you aren't letting this whole being-a-moth thing get to you are you, man?"

The moth executed a tight loop around the flashlight, then shot straight up into Sam's face to cling to his messy bangs, swatting him directly in the eye with a wing.

"Ow! Jerk." Sam blinked away the sting of wing-dust as the Dean-moth let go, flew a quick dart in the direction of his panicky, moth-controlled human form, then zipped back down to land on Sam's flashlight.

Sam stared down at his little moth brother for a second before facepalming. "God, I'm an idiot!" Dean flew off the flashlight as Sam grabbed it, turned it on and pointed it at Dean's human form. "Hey!"

In the distance between trees, Dean's form stumbled to a halt and turned toward Sam. "LIGHT! LIGHTLIGHTLIGHT!"

Sam grinned. "Great! We've got his atten-"

Suddenly, Dean's body was charging awkwardly through the trees towards Sam in what looked like it would turn into one hell of a flying tackle. "LIIIIIIIIGHT!"

"Crap! Hang on, Dean!" Sam spun in the direction of the Impala and started racing through the woods, keeping the flashlight pointed behind him to keep his brother's body following.

_One day,_ Sam thought grimly as he ran, feeling Dean's little mothy feet digging into his left eyebrow, listening to his six-foot brother's moth-driven body chasing after the flashlight in Sam's hand, crashing through the underbrush and shouting about light. _One day, we're gonna sit around with a couple of beers and go 'hey, remember that time some demonic hex-slinger swapped Dean's consciousness with a moth's?' And then we'll laugh our asses off._

_But when we roll up to the scrap-yard, I bet the first person who's gonna start laughing is Bobby._

-.-.-  
>(that's it)<p> 


End file.
